Dread (part iii)

“We should go,” he said, speaking so low behind his facemask that she could barely hear him above the surrounding crowds.

“What?”

He leaned closer. “We should go.”

Monica’s face twisted in shock and confusion. “What are you talking about? We’re only halfway to the statehouse”

He jerked his head in the direction of two brash, strutting men nearby, both carrying a brick in either hand. “I don’t want to be around if this is going to get ugly.”

“Hey!”

“Monica, don’t—”

Hey, brickheads,” she shouted, drawing eyes all around them, including those of the nearby men. “Yeah you,” she continued.  “You best drop those before any cops see you. We don’t need nobody starting shit today.”

But the men just laughed. “Shit’s gonna go down anyway once the cops start shooting.  Might as well be ready for it.”

“They’re gonna ruin everything,” he said. “We should go.”

She faced him with a dark scowl. “I’m done with living in fear and letting people with hate in they hearts run my life. We gotta hope, or else they win.”

The crowd surged on, billowing and charged like the dark clouds above, and he moved forward as part of it.

pat-farrell-isqz9FtpDbo-unsplashPhoto by Pat Farrell on Unsplash

Story by Gregory M. Fox
part i
part ii

part iv
part v
Hope: an Epilogue